Monday, December 31

The Sound Of A Headboard In Broken English

‘THE KITCHEN’LL STILL be open if you’re quick enough.’ Katie woke up late and as her parents had showered and her mother did her make-up she ran back & forth between sleep & awake. She did not watch all of it; she just saw the highlights.
When she was dressed and ready, her mother suggested – ‘Pick something up, then we’ll leave?’
Katie had been in a hotel with her parents for the Christmas break and she hadn’t slept with her boyfriend for fifteen days, which seemed like longer than fifteen days. They were just about to meet her brother & his wife, both of whom were residents of this side of the country, before going for a walk in the desert, which, Katie assumed, would be good & cool at this time of the year, even though the sun sung over it.
Katie took her key and left the room.
The hotel corridor was quiet and long, endless, with a couple of doors open down the end, spilling white light on the carpet and some maids’ carts, with sprays & linens organised upon them.
She walked down the corridor and enjoyed the smell of the corridor, which was a restaurant of all the smells of the residents.
‘Do not disturb—’ first; then the sound that came from beyond the door. It sounded like two people fucking. She thought on it, and then she realised that it was two people making love, not fucking, but making love loud enough for her to hear. She walked on, a little nervously.
The maids said hello to her in broken English, both of them, like a choir.
The kitchen – which was a room stocked with various food & drink during the day – was being emptied. A lot of the food had been cleared; there remained some stale croissants and a pot of coffee and a pot of tea.
Katie – as someone who never shied away from admitting an addiction to coffee – knew which she would have and poured herself a cup, adding some cream and sugar to bolster her up for the walk. She guessed her mother would complain that she had not taken any of the croissants, but they looked so useless in the bowl there, waiting to be taken away.
Cup in hand, she walked back to her room.
‘Do not disturb—’ room two-forty-two; the only room with ‘Do not disturb’ hanging afore it. The sound came faintly, then, as she got closer, stronger: the sound of a woman being put against the headboard. His were there, too, but hers were stronger. Katie paid more attention to the lady’s sounds. She sounded as old as Katie. Forgetting herself, she stopped outside the door, blew on her coffee and sipped it from both hands. They did not make love noisily on purpose, to show the others in the building how much fun they were having or to please their partners; no, they moaned through not being able to do otherwise and through thin doors.
After a moment of listening, Katie moved on, more aroused than she cared to be. She could not masturbate, not with her parents sharing the same room.
‘Why didn’t you get something to eat?’
‘There was nothing there. Everything had been put away except the coffee and tea.’
‘You’ll have to wake up earlier… we can stop by a bakery on our way to your brother’s.’
‘It’s okay. I’ll be okay.’
Most of all she wished to be alone in the hotel room; to pull back the curtains; lie on the bed and undress; to masturbate until her cunt and her fingers grew numb. She wanted to be alone, just for a half-hour. All she could hear in her head was the young couple making love. All through the bakery she heard the young couple making love. All through the car journey she heard the young couple making love. All through the desert she heard the young couple making love and in the hills she saw their picturesque necks from which their love-making sounds escaped like roman candles.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Blank Template By